


Good morning, good morning

by TabbieWolf



Category: Lupin III
Genre: A little angst, I can’t tell if this is OOC or not, Jigen keeps his hat off for some reason, Jigen seems to always be a little angsty, Lupin is absurdly affectionate, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, OT4, Slice of Life, blushing from almost everyone, handjob, implied M/M/F threesome, one day the thief will keep his mouth shut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:01:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22896904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TabbieWolf/pseuds/TabbieWolf
Summary: Jigen contemplates the foursome he’s gotten himself into while spending some quality time with himself on the couch in the morning. Then a gentleman thief in only boxers walks in...This started as porn without plot and turned into some weird slice-of-life breakfast scene amongst the gang.
Relationships: Ishikawa Goemon XIII/Jigen Daisuke/Arsène Lupin III/Mine Fujiko, Jigen Daisuke/Arsène Lupin III
Comments: 9
Kudos: 92





	Good morning, good morning

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired a bit by the wonderful casual intimacy of the foursome in ThatOneOctopus’s “Blackbird,” which is a great story that you totally should read if you haven’t (though honestly if you’re following the Lupin III tag I’m not sure how you’ve missed it ;) ): https://archiveofourown.org/works/21391294/chapters/50959798
> 
> As always, I don’t claim to be a writer (I’m a cartoonist, dammit), I just am trying to work out the physical scenes, though this might be too long to count as a drabble.

Jigen woke up on the couch, mostly covered by a worn-out blanket, his shirt unbuttoned and trying to make its way into the depths of the cushions, his pants...on the floor? On the chair? Not on his body, anyway. He squinted, instinctively looking for both his hat and his gun, which had been set on the table beside the couch. He sleepily tried to remember if he’d been the one who put them there, and his thoughts drifted to the previous night.

Fujiko had been extremely enthusiastic when she’d gotten back from wherever she’d been for the past week. No mention was made of the score, but she’d skipped into the little apartment they were currently holed up in, her grin nearly as wide as Lupin’s. The boys had been slouching in the living room, Jigen watching whatever was on TV as Lupin scrolled through various museum newsletters and reports on his tablet, and Goemon either meditating or sleeping sitting up, it was hard to tell. Oddly domestic, for what they were, Jigen remembered thinking as he sipped from a half-finished can of cheap beer and tried to find the remote. He suspected the samurai might have hidden it in his robes again to prevent squabbles over channel changing.

Fujiko burst in, practically glowing, to which Lupin grinned and Goemon startled, flinching out of the lotus position and nearly face first onto the floor. Jigen repositioned his hat, not even attempting to sit up, and Fujiko grabbed Lupin by the shirt, kissing him deeply. Jigen sighed, Goemon blushed, and Lupin basically melted into the redhead while simultaneously attempting to grope whatever parts of her he could get his hands on.

Fujiko raised an eyebrow to the men who weren’t currently wrapped around her, her intentions clear to them. Goemon, despite having experienced all of his partners intimately, individually and as a group, blushed even deeper and glanced at Jigen. The gunslinger sighed, sitting up and shaking his head just slightly at the samurai. Goemon frowned, nodded, and stood up, letting Fujiko grab his rear as she pushed him and Lupin into the single bedroom. Fujiko glanced over her shoulder at Jigen again, who nodded, and she shut the door behind her.

It was weird, this new (maybe not so new? How long had it been?) intimacy amongst them, right? Jigen felt simultaneously thrilled and fearful of the whole thing, not to mention still wary of Fujiko’s endless betrayals, which had at least gotten slightly more predictable these days. He hadn’t gotten steadily laid this much...ever in his life, possibly. The group was still learning each other — no one was surprised that Lupin was loud and talkative in bed (Fujiko had suggested a ballgag and no one could tell if she was joking or not; Jigen usually just shoved his dick in his mouth if he could get into that position and Lupin was being particularly annoying), but Goemon’s desires to be wholeheartedly pounded were definitely a new aspect to the samurai, and Jigen had discovered that there was nothing quite like having your neck nibbled on by a talkative thief. Just thinking about the sensation had him hard as he rubbed his eyes, finally putting effort into actually waking up. Or maybe that was morning wood?

He wondered how long he had until the others woke up, and if anyone would mind terribly if he rubbed one out on the couch. Letting his mind wander, his hand traced himself over his briefs, and even just the teasing sensation caused his hips to thrust forward involuntarily. Still mostly covered by the blanket, he pulled his underwear down a bit, stroking his now bare cock slowly, less worried about anyone walking in and more driven by his desire to get off.

They’d all seen one another naked before they’d become...whatever they were, and despite the general cultural “size matters” nonsense, none of them had even considered comparison an issue except in a practical sense. Goemon was still the shyest of the bunch, though his slender fingers felt amazing against whatever part of you they were touching, and Fujiko had been delighted to learn how much you could hide wrapped in a traditional fundoshi. Lupin’s intimacy matched the rest of him: loud and boisterous and unafraid to charge right in, though if you could keep him focused on the task you’d be in for a helluva night. The thief also had the refractory period of a teenager, much to everyone in the group’s chagrin.

Fujiko was nearly as bad as Lupin, if she was in a mood, though being cornered by her wasn’t all that bad. Jigen was still getting used to her in that fashion, though she’d talked him into it a few times while Goemon and Lupin were out on jobs or running errands or otherwise occupied. Jigen knew he wasn’t her first pick, but she wasn’t his either, and the mutual understanding was “I respect you as a business partner and you’re a good lay...but.” Lupin had been absurdly pleased when he’d come back to find the two of them with faces flushed and half-dressed, sticky and sweating and sprawled on the bed of whatever hotel they’d holed up in (“We were just...” “It was stress relief,”), and he’d pounced between them, shedding his clothes along the way, and left Goemon holding the takeout they’d gone to pick up.

Jigen stroked a little faster as he thought about Goemon’s cute little blush, his inky black hair over his face, holding his broad, muscular shoulders as he gently eased into him. Jigen was the thickest of the group, noticeably so, and it took the boys a little more effort to take him, but both Lupin and Goemon claimed it was entirely worth it, which caused Jigen’s ears to go pink. He thought about the time he’d caused Lupin to bite the pillow so hard he’d ripped it open with his teeth, and they’d ended up laughing like hyenas as they came, covered in feathers and lube. Fujiko and Goemon had rushed in to see what all the fuss was, and they’d all just tumbled back into bed, laughing and sneezing and rubbing up against each other like they were much younger than they were. The shower afterward, in the massive walk-in that Lupin had at the French estate (one of his many inheritances kept off the map by various ordinances and pseudonyms), had been almost as much fun as the sex.

Jigen breathed through his nose, trying not to make too much noise and repositioning the blanket away as he felt himself nearing climax. He’d have to wash this shirt anyway. His cock twitched and he moaned into his arm as he came across his stomach, memories and fantasies and the general nothingness of a good orgasm dancing across his brain.

He heard a quiet “Hmmm!” and opened his eyes — he wasn’t sure how long they’d been closed, but when he looked up he found Lupin grinning at him, the thief’s sleepy eyes smiling along with the rest of him, a very obvious erection tenting his striped boxers.

Jigen sighed, rolling his eyes. “How long have you been there, man.”

“I just got up a little bit ago. I wasn’t expecting a show on my way to take a leak! Fujicakes and Goemon are still asleep, if that matters. And clearly I’m not gonna get much done with this.” He gestured at his dick, eyebrows raised, almost a challenge.

“Oh, that’s bullshit, I’ve seen you do it before.” Jigen grins, pulling his partner closer and rubbing his hands over his boxers.

“And you always complain,” Lupin’s teeth clench as Jigen nudges down the underwear and grips the thief’s dick with strong, callused fingers.

“Just do it in the shower like the rest of us so we don’t have to clean up the floor. Or the ceiling. Remember the time with the ceiling?” Jigen is stroking harder as Lupin sits against him on the couch, the skinny thief running his fingers through the gunman’s chest hair and down his stomach.

“I — ah! — that was ONE time. Jesus, how’d you get so good at this,”

Jigen smiles smugly and turns his wrist, his fingers rubbing against Lupin’s foreskin and tickling up under the head. “I know what you like. Watch your hand,”

Lupin grins and runs his fingers through Jigen’s earlier mess, raising them to his lips to lick them clean. Jigen rolls his eyes again but pink tinges his cheeks, and Lupin’s grin is broken by a moan as the gunman twists his wrist again, repositioning his hand and picking up the pace. The thief’s fingers clench around a bunch of fabric of Jigen’s open shirt, and he can feel him trying to hold out to make the sensation last longer.

“Jigen, I’m gonna—“

The gunman hums contentedly as Lupin leans back into him, coming into Jigen’s hand and dripping down onto his own stomach. For once, the thief is quiet, letting the pleasant afterglow envelope the two of them, before he twitches and blushes. His cock is still in Jigen’s hand as he rubs the back of his own neck, half-smiling at his partner.

“I...really do have to pee, though.”

Jigen sighs and smacks him with his clean hand, “That’s the thanks I get?” His tone is warm, though, as the two men rearrange themselves. Lupin pulls up his boxers as he gets up, snapping them against his waist as he repositions himself under them. Jigen tugs his now soiled shirt back over his shoulders, wiping up whatever sweat and semen he can with it as he rises. He slides his briefs up, moving Lupin’s hand, which has snaked around him and is grabbing his ass. “I thought you had to pee,”

“Right, right.” The thief kisses Jigen’s cheek, brushing his sideburns against his beard and grinning, and heads across the apartment’s living room. Jigen gives him a moment, listening for the sound of water running — one of the first things they lost as a group was Lupin almost ever closing the door to the bathroom when he used it, which was admittedly something the boys had had to deal with on and off for years previously (Goemon was the only one who still closed it 100% of the time, these days; if they were in a place with only one bathroom even Fujiko would leave the door open when she was doing her makeup or showering, mostly to prevent the boys from peeing in the kitchen sink...again) — before heading into the kitchen.

A bit of clean up later and Jigen was laying out the makings of coffee. They’d all known his particular love of the stuff, no matter how cheap and rocket fuel-like, and Lupin had made it a point to make sure the hideouts they stayed in regularly had a decent coffee maker (“Of course I bought them, what kind of common criminal do you take me for?”). They almost all benefited from the gunman’s love of coffee, and he’d usually go out of his way to prepare a pot of green tea for Goemon as well, as careful of the correct water temperature and brewing time as he was with the coffee (though Jigen HAD seen the samurai sneak a cup of joe on occasion. “It is not as bad as I was expecting,” was a huge compliment from the man, which the gunslinger took gladly). He tapped the measured freshly-ground coffee into the machine and set it, fiddling with his fingers on the counter — he’d left his cigarettes in the living room, and he usually had at least one between his lips at this time of day, lit or not. He suddenly felt fingers brush his waist and a nose nuzzle into his shoulder, and if he hadn’t been around the thief so long he would have jumped. He DID drop the measuring spoon he’d been cycling between his fingers as Lupin used his free hand to offer him a freshly lit cigarette, the rest of the thief still pressing into his back.

Jigen hummed contentedly, knowing there was no way Lupin would be up for a second round so quickly, and just enjoyed the snuggles and affectionate nibbles as the coffee brewed. By that point, Jigen was laying out Goemon’s tea as methodically as he cleaned his gun, the pace and familiarity of the act as much of a comfort as having the samurai leaning against him. He knew Fujiko would be up the moment she smelled coffee, and Goemon would probably follow right after. It was rare the samurai slept in later than the thief and the gunman, but it was also rare that Jigen was the first one up at all, and he figured Fujiko must’ve worn those two out the previous night. He’d fallen asleep on the couch to the noise of muffled giggles, moans, and Goemon’s signature squeaks from behind the bedroom door, after all.

He turned, sighed at the look in Lupin’s eyes, and handed over the cigarette. The smell of coffee was making itself known, and Jigen gestured to the cabinets and kissed the thief on the lips before heading to the bathroom himself. Lupin, taking over the process, started setting out the mugs, sugar, and checking the fridge for whatever milk-like product someone had acquired on their last run to the store. Goemon had a tendency to get soy, no matter what anyone requested (sending the samurai to the store by himself was a thing they all quickly realized was not a great idea), Fujiko was currently buying oat milk for some insane reason, and Jigen would grab whatever was on sale, dairy or no (he took his coffee black, anyway, but he did try to respect the tastes of the other members of their group). Lupin had a tendency to get whole fat and no one complained anymore because they knew it would lead to a twenty minute lecture on the cows in France.

Jigen returned, stretching and wearing the pants that had been under the coffee table in the living room, his gun in its holster on his backside and another cigarette balanced precariously at the edge of his lips, as Lupin was setting up at the stove. His glance to the fridge for milk reminded him that he’d done the shopping previously, and he’d brightened up even further at following a blissful night with a satisfying breakfast for everyone, and he’d promptly put an apron on over his boxers and got to work. Jigen poured himself a cup of freshly brewed coffee and leaned against the counter as he watched his partner assembling ingredients. Lupin was a reasonably good cook, a skill he attributed to the French heritage despite his tendency to cook Japanese food when he could. Beyond that, it was an extremely affectionate gesture from the thief, almost moreso than the sex, a fact that had taken Jigen a long time to realize.

There was a yawn and a hum, causing Lupin to look up from the stove and Jigen to look up from his coffee, and they watched as a very bleary Goemon shuffled into the kitchen. He was wearing one of Fujiko’s loose nightshirts, which caused Jigen to nearly snort coffee up his nose and Lupin to just knowingly grin, pink very lightly touching his cheeks. Jigen handed the samurai a cup of tea and Goemon gripped it with both hands, blearily squinting at it, before sitting down at the kitchen table.

Lupin turned back to the stove, pouring eggs into the heated pan he was working with, asking, “Fujiko up?”

“She is in the bathroom,” Goemon said through another yawn. “I cannot feel my left arm. Or my butt.” He looked at his arm and folded out his fingers, shivering at the pins and needles sensation that followed.

Jigen hissed through his teeth and laughed, “What did you guys do last night??”

“I think we might’ve fallen asleep on his arm but you’d have to ask Fujiko about the butt thing,” Lupin responded easily, flipping the soon-to-be-omelette with a flair like someone with their own cooking show.

Jigen brushed his hair back from his eyes. “In that case, maybe I don’t want to know.” He refilled his half-empty coffee cup and sat down next to Goemon at the table, who blinked and looked at the gunman.

“Why didn’t you want to join us last night, Jigen?”

It was asked without malice, with genuine curiosity, but Jigen still coughed as he swallowed the coffee the wrong way. “I, uh...”

“The old man probably just wasn’t up for it, you know how Fujiko gets after her jobs.” Lupin winked at the two of them, sliding the omelette he’d been assembling onto a plate and whirling around to drop it artfully in front of the gunman, who looked at him as if he was about to argue about being called old.

“I cannot feel my butt, so yes,” Goemon agreed, restating his earlier concern, looking at the omelette with a combination of desire and distaste. Jigen offered him a forkful, watching as the samurai’s battles with tradition and hunger played out on his face. There was a melodic ding across the kitchen, and they heard Lupin shuffle across the tiles. Goemon finally gave up and gracefully took the forkful of omelette, his cheeks red.

Lupin once again whirled around the table, dropping a bottle of hot sauce in front of the gunman (“I picked some up last time we were over in America,” he’d claimed, somehow knowing that Jigen liked it on his eggs, and somehow stashing bottles of it across their longterm hideouts, along with Goemon’s favorite type of Pocky and Fujiko’s favorite wine) and a bowl of rice with an overeasy egg on top in front of the samurai. Goemon brightened, handing the fork (which no longer had omelette on it) back to Jigen and picking up his chopsticks. Jigen smiled at the samurai, glancing at the thief, who’d gone back to the stove with his usual self-satisfied grin across his face.

Lupin was fixing the last omelette when Fujiko walked into the kitchen, her hair wet from the shower she’d taken, wearing one of Lupin’s undershirts and a pair of panties. Jigen half-expected the thief to wolf-whistle and drop the plate as the lady walked over to the coffee maker, Lupin gamely striding over to bump up against her side, setting another plate on the table along the way.

“I could’ve joined you in the shower, you know,” he pouted, giving Fujiko puppy dog eyes.

“Then neither of us would have gotten very clean,” Fujiko said matter-of-factly, smirking, as he rubbed up against her. She pecked his lips very gently, knowing the risk of getting him too excited (an even more constant risk since the four of them had gotten more intimate, even in the middle of jobs, which lead to some very red-faced looks from their favorite police inspector). “Thank you for making breakfast, lover.”

Lupin suddenly looked alarmed and swore in French under his breath, rushing back to the stove and quickly sliding the final omelette onto a plate. It was a little crispier than the previous ones, and Jigen and Goemon gave each other a look over their own breakfasts. Fujiko doctored her coffee and sat at the table where her plate had been prepared, her hand brushing Goemon’s as she did so.

“You okay this morning?”

Goemon just blushed and sank a little further into his chair. Fujiko smiled, glancing at Jigen. “Morning,” she sipped her coffee, “Hopefully you slept well.”

Jigen raised an eyebrow and sipped at the last of his own coffee. Lupin joined them at the table, unsteadily balancing a coffee cup and his plate full of omelette. “He gave me an amazing handjob this morning, so I’m assuming he slept great,” Goemon snorted tea up his nose at this, and it was Jigen’s turn to blush and sink into his seat, “AND he’s got a great ass, AND he made us this amazing coffee. Eat up, everyone,”

“You shouldn’t be allowed to talk ever,” Jigen said, wishing he had his hat to pull over his red face.

“Agreed,” chimed in Goemon and Fujiko.

“Aw, guys, I made you breakfast,” the thief groused indignantly.


End file.
